


better stuck in the closet than stuck in a dumpster

by fuckitfireeverything



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Gen, Locked In, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Stiles rambles to ward off panic, and Danny doesn't like it, it's danny/stiles in the same way stiles asking danny am I attractive to gay guys is danny/stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:56:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckitfireeverything/pseuds/fuckitfireeverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, if we were in a movie you would be confessing your undying love to me right about now."</p>
<p>Stiles and Danny get locked in a dumpster, and neither of them is good with small places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better stuck in the closet than stuck in a dumpster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theonewiththelonghair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonewiththelonghair/gifts).



> just a short fun bit of relative fluff for what is officially the least angsty ship I sail

Danny doesn't like small places. 

He's not claustrophobic or anything, he can deal with small cars and he was in the closet for more than the first half of his life so clearly he can manage, but he's significantly less okay with it when the small place he's in is a locked metal dumpster of some sort, he's been locked there by the cute werewolf guy he'd been hooking up with for a few weeks now, and he's locked in there with Stiles Stilinksi.

He'd been fine for the first minute and a half, he really had, but then Stiles had started to talk. 

"I can't believe it. Could they be any more unoriginal? Seriously, at least Peter had style, but this just completely lacks any class at all. Oh yeah, let's lock the humans in a dumpster. Really? A dumpster?"

Danny puts his face in his hands, trying to concentrate on his breathing (in, out, in, out) and tries to tune Stiles out. If he can pretend he's not here, he knows Jackson is on the way because he'd managed to text him before Ethan had smashed his phone. So unless Jackson had suddenly decided that he hates Stiles enough to let Danny die with him, they'll be out pretty soon. He just has to bide his time and manage not to go completely insane with Stiles rambling in his ear.

"--last time it was a basement, this time it's a dumpster, it's like I'm the comic relief who's only around to get shoved into small places and rescued by the werewolves on occasion and I'm kind of sick of it, to be honest. Can I quit? Can I just quit all this werewolf stuff and, like, you know, have a normal weekend?"

"Stiles," he says through gritted teeth, his eyes still closed. 

"I mean, has this been happening to you to? Is this just something that happens to people who are best friends with werewolves? Getting locked in places? Because I love Scott, but if that's a pre-existing condition to being his friend now I'm going to start composing my letter of resignation on the wall of this stupid dumpster."

"Stiles," Danny repeats, a little louder, and Stiles, miraculously, stops.

"What?"

"Gonna need you to stop talking."

"Oh," Stiles answers, quietly. "Okay."

Danny can't really see Stiles, aside from a faint outline, because it's two in the morning and this may be the one dumpster in town whose lid actually fits it, so there's really not any light coming in from anywhere. Danny's okay with the dark, but he's a little less okay with not being able to see Stiles' face right now because he's never heard Stiles say anything that quietly, not even top-secret werewolf information that he tries to whisper to Scott in class. 

But at least Danny gets a few minutes of precious silence out of it, which is more than he thought he'd get. It gives him enough time to calm himself down and convince himself that Jackson is getting closer and that he won't be stuck in this dumpster for too much longer.

And then he realizes that it's not just quiet, it's weirdly quiet. Like, he isn't sure he hears Stiles breathing anymore quiet.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?" Stiles says, his voice a little tenser than it was before.

"You're allowed to breathe, you know."

"Oh. Right. Yeah, sorry, it's just I'm not exactly great with small spaces and stuff like that?"

Of course. Danny shouldn't have expected Stiles' coping mechanism to be anything but talking.

"I just kind of get a little panicky sometimes. They remind me of coffins."

There's another minute where neither of them says anything, like Stiles is still trying his hardest not to talk, no matter how much he's struggling, and Danny doesn't really know what to say because damn, he really wasn't feeling guilty about shutting Stiles up until he said that. 

So he relishes in the last few seconds of silence and then opens his mouth and says, "I feel like we're in a movie."

It gets Stiles started talking again, breathing again, at least, so he seems to have succeeded in at least one thing today. 

"It would be better in a movie, though. I'd be able to see your face, even just barely, because they'd need to light it for the camera. And the gorgeous hunky hero would be on his way to save the day--"

"He is," Danny says. "I texted Jackson."

"I meant Scott," Stiles replies.

Danny can't help but laugh at that because as much as Stiles may like Scott, he can't see anyone using the word "hunky" to describe him, even with the admittedly impressive werewolf muscles. 

Stiles laughs too, a little, and that sets Danny at ease, because if Stiles can be relaxed right now, so can he. 

After a minute, Stiles talks again. Only this time he says, "You know, if we were in a movie you would be confessing your undying love to me right about now." 

Danny swallows, suddenly feeling just how uncomfortably warm it can get when you're locked in a metal dumpster. He feels a little like he's going to hyperventilate or like he's going to vomit, and he isn't really sure what he's about to say when he opens his mouth to answer.

And then the lid of the dumpster is ripped off, the metal box flooding with the bright light of the full moon and Danny barely has the chance to glance at Stiles' now-lit face before Jackson is hoisting him out the the box and setting him down on the curb, shaking him a little, his eyes bright blue and worried-looking. 

"You okay," he growled.

"I'm fine," Danny says, shaking him off. "Get Stiles out."

Stiles is already clambering his way out of the dumpster, so Jackson picks him up by the hoodie at the scruff of his neck and drops him, unceremoniously, onto the pavement before turning to Danny and saying, "I've gotta get back to the pack. Next time don't get your claustrophobic ass stuck in a small space, okay?"

Jackson's off and running before Danny can respond, and by the time he gets to his feet, Stiles is already brushing the dirt off his jeans and cracking his neck. 

"You alright?" Danny asks him.

"I'm fine, I'm grand, I've just been rescued and then tossed on the ground like a rag doll by the werewolf that's been bullying me since I was in third grade. Alright? I've never been better."

"Okay," Danny says, choosing to ignore the part about Jackson in there and not look the gift horse that is Stiles no longer panicking in the mouth. "I'll, uh, see you around then?"

But Stiles stops him, grabbing his arm, and says, "Danny, wait."

"Yeah?"

"So that was great and all, you know, day saved, no more dumpsters, maybe you should not hook up with evil werewolves who will kidnap both of us to get to our respective best friends in the future, but hey, look, I have a question? You were going to say something. Before Jackson swooped in to the rescue. What was it?"

Danny looks at him, looks at his bruised face and his muddy sweatshirt, his eyes weirdly bright and his voice cracking a little bit as he rushes the words out like a waterfall he can't keep in.

"Stiles," he says, and pauses for a second, trying to put his words together in the most reasonably way he can, and then says, "No matter how much I like you, I am going to murder you if you don't learn how to shut up."


End file.
